Anchovies may very well be the single most divisive food
item. Last night was my parents last evening
in Hawaii,
which we wanted to spend with a low-key dinner in, so we made a variety of
pizzas from scratch. One, which I
insisted on as I wore my “Eat Mor Seafood” apron, had to include anchovies
because I simply love them.

But it was like suggesting that we put broken glass on the
pizza. Everyone else vehemently
protested. Even when I promised they’d
only be on my pieces, there were fears that a stray anchovy would wreak havoc on
the rest of the pizza. After much
debate, I ended up negotiating about 1/3 of the olive, caper, and artichoke
pizza. That was plenty for my dinner
last night and a salty, nutty piece that I’m enjoying for lunch right now.

To make myself feel like less of an outcast for loving these
little guys I found this
article, which explains that during the Roman empire, a condiment made with
anchovies cost as much as the finest perfumes.
In fact, a modern day condiment that everyone loves – ketchup – began as
a combination of anchovies and tomatoes.
For those who care to get back to their roots by acquiring a taste for
anchovies, the article suggests the following:

“If you’re trying to condition yourself to appreciate this
fine fish, don’t eat them individually as you would on a pizza. The anchovies
at pizza joints are usually the cheapest available; the hot oven also
concentrates their saltiness. Find a good Caesar salad or puttanesca sauce
recipe that calls for a few anchovies mixed into the dish. Or make an olive
tapenade that you can smear on baguette slices. You can use the cheaper
anchovies for these recipes. Once you get accustomed to the subtle fish taste,
seek out the more expensive anchovies, often found in a jar, not a can, at
specialty food stores or Italian or Spanish markets. You’ll be surprised by the
difference in flavor.”